


The Taming of Nulgar Hell-Axe

by baths



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bondage, F/F, High Fantasy, Orcs, Rough Sex, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 01:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16149578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baths/pseuds/baths
Summary: “I have issued the challenge, Captain. I will not stop until either you have bested me in combat or you accept me into your bed.” Khiv smiles as she wraps rope around Nulgar’s other wrist. “If you wish to stop, Captain—which option do you choose?”Nulgar Hell-Axe, orcish Captain of the War Hogs battle clan, has been left with an empty bed for longer than she cares to think about, filling the void with slaughtering elves and claiming gold and silver from kobolds. One of her underlings has a different way of filling the void in mind...





	The Taming of Nulgar Hell-Axe

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, the lesbian orc story. This isn't based in any particular fantasy universe, but I'm sure you can pick up vague hints of Dungeons and Dragons from it.
> 
> Fair warning, this story contains what I would call "competitive sex," "forceful sex," "combat through sex," or other such similar terms. It's consensual, but it's not gentle or sweet per se. Enjoy!

A hilltop sits, covered by a constellation of bonfires which are interspersed with an army’s worth of tents and wagons. Beyond the hill, there lies a series of caves bearing signs of kobolds living without a dragon. The battle flags of the War Hogs fly high above the tents, and orcish archers are lined up on the hillside beyond them, their line of sight bearing down upon the caves. The siege has been going for two weeks, and by the excitement buzzing in the troops, their final strike is coming up soon.

“Soldier!” The unmistakable sound of Captain Nulgar’s voice echoes across the grassy area they’ve cordoned off for the horses. Horses—though they look like horses, they’re not quite the same; these are large enough to carry a fully armored orc. They are likened to small elephants by dwarves. At the side of the field, a largeish orc looks up from the creature she’s currently brushing and holds up a hand in greeting.

Captain Nulgar Hell-Axe is an impressive size even for an orc—well over six feet tall, and no bulk is lost to her height. She wears a set of necklaces strung with various teeth—one can pick out a dragon’s incisor at a distance. She wears no shirt, but drapes herself in impressive furs. The greataxe which is her namesake sits, always at the ready, on her back.

“Captain!” The other orc lays down her brush and walks over to meet Nulgar at the edge of the fence. “May I take Aala for you?” She lets the horse-creature nuzzle against her hand.

“Thank you.” The orc watches as Nulgar dismounts in one smooth motion, pushing up a cloud of dust where her boots hit the ground. “…Khiv, isn’t it?”

Khiv inclines her head as she takes the horse-creature’s reins. “Yes, Captain.” Khiv is massive, half a foot taller than Nulgar and a bit leaner. She has a shrewd set of eyes, and her hands are callused thick with horse-work. Her eyes scan Nulgar, lingering momentarily on her bare chest, and her thickly muscled arms.

“Do you work the saddles on these mounts?” Nulgar asks.

“Yes, Ton and I do, Captain. I do the rope and cloth-work, she does the leatherwork.”

Nulgar looks over the saddle which she just dismounted. “It’s fine work. Give Ton my compliments.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Khiv keeps her eyes trained on Nulgar as she walks away, her captain’s steps shorter than usual, and her head hung low. Khiv watches with interest until she disappears behind the tent line.

 

—-

 

Between meetings with her lieutenants regarding tomorrow’s plan of attack, Nulgar sits in her tent with her head in her hands, staring at the maps laid out before her.

It’s been three months since she started feeling… _this way_. Since it finally hit her that through all the war trophies, the gold and jewels, the accolades from orcish queens and lords—Nulgar was unhappy.

No, not unhappy—lonely. Chronically mate-less, to be specific.

To admit as much may as well have been to succumb to death as far as the Captain of a prestigious orc-army like the War Hogs was concerned. And the fear that she might never mate again—well, she tried not to think about that.

Concentrate on the attack. With any luck, it’d be a quick, in-and-out operation, they’d avoid getting into another seige situation, and they’d be back on the road within a week, with another battle to strategize over, a kingdom of elfin nobles to slaughter, something that’ll take her mind off things.

She’s just hoping against hope that it’ll actually work this time.

 

—-

 

That night, Khiv kneels in a circle with two others, watching the orc to her left, Gronk, toss dice into the dirt. Gronk is short, but he’s thick, and there’s no orc in their squad who can throw an axe farther than him.

“You’re a damn cheater, Gronk,” their other companion, Azgul, says. She is noticeably half-orc, her humanness showing through in her eyes, hands, and the paladin’s robes she wears over her armor. 

Gronk looks up, tongue sticking out through teeth that are disgusting for orc standards. “Prove it, half-blood.”

Azgul snarls and snatches the dice up from the dirt.

Khiv snorts in laughter. “The day we can get through a game without a fight is the day I leave the War Hogs to become a cleric.” She winks at Gronk. “By the way…have you two noticed something different about the Captain recently?”

“I have,” Gronk says, eyes not leaving Azgul’s hands as she throws the dice down. “She caught me stealing from the foodstores two weeks ago and didn’t even threaten to cut off a toe.”

“Then she must be insane or cursed,” Azgul says as she adds up the pips on the dice with her fingers. “I think it started maybe two months ago or so. She asked me “how I was doing”. _The_ Nulgar Hell-Axe asked _me_ ‘how I was doing’!!” She laughs, a loud short bark. “I thought maybe she was giving me a hard time about the half-blood thing until I heard her apologize to Sheelug last week for ‘interrupting her’.”

Gronk shudders. “Then something must be wrong. It’s elf-like of her.” His eyes don’t leave the dice, but he bites his lip in thought. “Her bloodlust hasn’t gone down at all, though. If anything she is even more hell-bound than usual.”

Khiv nods, scooping up the dice and throwing them. “I know what’s wrong with her. She has mate-sickness.”

Gronk explodes with laughter. “ _Nasty_!!” He shoves Khiv’s shoulder. “You are nasty!!”

Khiv grins wide, showing all her largest teeth. “Yes, Gronk, exactly.”

“Khiv…you aren’t planning on challenging her, are you?” Azgul asks as though she already knows the answer.

“Of course I am,” Khiv says. “By next new moon at the latest. She is _ripe_ for it.”

“You’re much braver than I, Khiv,” Gronk says, weighing the dice in his hand, eyes on her. “She will slice off your clit for just thinking such things, and will not stop there if you actually try any of them.”

“You underestimate me,” Khiv says simply.

Gronk looks at her for a long while, and shrugs. “Maybe. I’ve learned to take you at your word, at least.” He tosses the dice down.

“ _Cheater_!!” Azgul yells, pulling her knife from its sheath. “I saw that!”

“Khiv, explain please to Azgul that she is seeing things,” Gronk says.

“I saw it too, Gronk,” Khiv reaches behind her and pulls out a long blade. “…What was it you were saying about cutting things off, again?”

Azgul barks another laugh and springs forward before Gronk can get his feet under himself, just barely getting an arm up to stop the knife from sinking into his shoulder. Khiv cries fiercely before jumping into the fray.

 

—-

 

The next evening, after the last kobold has had his head neatly removed from his neck, the War Hogs pile up enough furniture to burn for the next fifteen hours and begin the celebration. Mugs of beer are passed around, while the musically inclined bring out drums and mandolins and begin to sing, and everyone dances. The celebrations will continue late into the night and into the next week, or maybe two—depending on how long the kobolds’ foodstores last.

Nulgar sits alone in the farthest ring of seats in the kobold’s former arena, where the orcs have set up the bonfire. She sips from a stein, eyes fixed forward and not focused on any one thing in particular.

“Captain?” Khiv says, approaching her with her own cup in hand. She can see now that Nulgar’s cup is filled not with beer, but with the clear liquor that kobolds get drunk on in thimblefuls. 

Nulgar looks up briefly before turning back to her cup. “…Khiv, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“I saw you out on the battlefield today. You’re a menace on a horse.”

“And off one too, I hope.” Khiv sits next to her. “Thank you, Captain.”

Nulgar sighs, loud and long, and gulps from her cup. Khiv waits a full minute before continuing.

“You’re not happy today, Captain? I counted 100 kobolds dead and a cavern’s worth of gold claimed by your hand alone.”

“Mm. No, I’m not.” She takes another long pull of the clear stuff, and her face seems to go redder immediately.

“…Sorry about that.”

Nulgar brings a huge hand down on Khiv’s back. Khiv can feel individual calluses, wrought from years of hard axe-work, rough against her skin. “No worry, orcling. Nothing you could do about it, anyway.”

Khiv catches herself staring at Nulgar’s face and glances away as Nulgar burps loudly. “…Should I take you to your tent, Captain?”

“Yes. I’m completely shitfaced.” She downs the rest of the cup and throws it down to shatter at her feet.

Nulgar’s extra height and bulk make it a challenge for Khiv as her captain sinks more and more into unconsciousness and leans more and more on Khiv’s shoulders. Khiv tries not to concentrate on the warm heat of Nulgar’s chest on her back as she moves forward.

 

—-

 

Nulgar feels warmth against her back—the warmth of orc-skin, if her half-asleep mind isn’t wrong. It’s been a while since she felt that. She sighs, half of sleep, half of pleasure.

Wait.

Nulgar blinks quickly, trying to clear the rest of the fog from her mind as fast as she can. The drink is still in her, but one doesn’t get to be a War Hog Captain without a strong stomach and a stronger liver.

The second thing she feels is rough material sliding against her wrists. That clears the mind quicker than blinking.

Nulgar shifts her arms minutely to get a feel for the material before she yanks them to either side, tearing the cloth binding them. One more moment and she’s turned herself around, backed a step away, and turned to face her attacker.

“…Khiv.”

The orc standing above Nulgar nods, throwing the rest of the cloth aside. “Captain.”

Nulgar’s eyes take in the room—not her tent, of course. It looks like a cave offshoot somewhere deep in the kobold’s village. Nothing much in here except a few lit torches and smallish piles of gold, jewels, and fancy armors that wouldn’t take much more than one arrow on the battlefield. Nulgar also notices a War Hog-issue bedroll and backpack near Khiv on the floor. The only door is blocked by a large red marble statue of a dragon, which has been shoved in front of it. The door is closed (and, Nulgar suspects, locked) besides. Nulgar herself has been stripped of her furs and necklaces, so she is leaning against the wall in just trousers and boots.

“…What’s your plan, traitor?” Nulgar says, as she continues scanning the room for escape routes and weapons.

Khiv snorts. “Save your harsh words, Captain.” Khiv’s hands go to her belt—the knife normally strapped there is already gone—and she throws it backwards into one of the many piles. The sound of disturbed gold pieces rings throughout the room. “My sight is not set on command of the War Hogs.”

Nulgar waits for Khiv to make the next move.

Khiv’s hands move to her armor, which she unclasps quickly, letting that fall to the ground as well. She stands now looking relatively naked, in a gray cloth shirt and trousers. “I, Khiv of Tulsgarn, challenge you, Nulgar Hell-Axe, Captain of the War Hogs, for the position of your bed-mate.”

It takes several seconds for Nulgar to react. It’s difficult to tell whether it’s the fault of the kobold liquor or just simple shock. She doesn’t consider that it could be lust clouding her brain—at least, she doesn’t consider it for long.

“…You have guts, orcling.”

Khiv inclines her head briefly. “I hear that often, Captain.”

“It’s an old tradition, the mate’s challenge.” Nulgar pushes herself away from the wall, taking a step towards Khiv. There’s about six feet between them now. “Is a fresh orcling like yourself prepared to take on the consequences?”

“My life has been in your hands since the day I joined the War Hogs, Captain. I would be proud to be slain by your axe.”

“Noble words, Khiv.”

Khiv opens her mouth to answer, when Nulgar lunches forward and catches her off balance. Khiv lands in one of the jewel piles, and Nulgar follows quickly, straddling her and throwing a punch against Khiv’s cheek. It lands with a thick sound.

Khiv grins, catches Nulgar’s thrown arm at the wrist, and twists her arm so she falls awkwardly, giving Khiv just enough wiggle room to slip out from under her and switch positions. Nulgar feels the alchol racing through her brain, making her head throb and her arms slow down.

Her knees squeeze Nulgar’s sides firmly, digging into the meat around her ribs. She has a firm grip on that arm, and twists it backwards, keeping her grip.

Nulgar struggles to switch positions again, but can’t get the momentum with Khiv’s full weight upon her. That half a foot of height Khiv has on her seems insignificant when Nulgar has the weight of her authority behind her, but now it feels as though she is wrestling a giant, with Khiv’s hips pressing her entire body down into the stone floor.

There is a soft sound of fabric, followed by the distinctive sound of a coil of rope hitting the stone floor. Nulgar continues her struggle, lifting her hips to try and unseat Khiv, while Khiv twists her arm further behind her back. Nulgar growls as she feels Khiv loop rope around her caught wrist.

“Frustrated already, Captain?” Khiv says, expert fingers finishing the knot in seconds and wrapping more rope around her wrist.

Khiv lets Nulgar’s arm go—that is, her hands fall away, but Nulgar finds it impossible to move her arm more than a few inches. It takes only a few moments of struggle before Khiv has captured her other arm.

“Stop this.” Nulgar says, voice low.

“I have issued the challenge, Captain. I will not stop until either you have bested me in combat or you accept me into your bed.” Khiv smiles as she wraps rope around Nulgar’s other wrist. “If you wish to stop, Captain—which option do you choose?”

Nulgar growls again as Khiv pulls the rope tight, fastening her wrists together at the small of her back. She tests the rope—it’s tight, and the knotwork feels unlikely to unravel itself. Breaking it is her only option. Nulgar feels a masochistic sense of pride at this—it feels good that even her foot-soldiers practice high-level knotwork.

She feels Khiv’s thighs loosen their grip minutely and follows that weakness, lifting her hips and twisting so Khiv is thrown from her. Nulgar stands, arms behind her back, a light blush on her cheeks. From exertion. Nothing else.

Nulgar goes first to the door, attempts to push aside the dragon statue blocking her escape. The statue moves, but only minutely, and Khiv is already up on her feet and coming towards her. The ropes must go.

Nulgar focuses her strength, and pulls against the ropes, trying to find a weak spot. The knots feel like iron manacles against her skin, and they only seem to get tighter and more solid as she pulls.

In seconds Khiv has grabbed her arm and thrown her down, once again straddling her hips, this time looking into Nulgar’s eyes.

“Strong, aren’t they?” Khiv says, arms on Nulgar’s shoulders, keeping her firmly pinned. “These ropes are actually charmed, can’t be broken or unraveled. I had Azgul whip them up for me.”

Nulgar laughs, a low noise made through exerted breathing. “Remind me to deal with her too after I’m finished with you.”

“Oh, don’t blame her, Captain. I told her they were for the horses.”

Nulgar growls again, beast-like. She struggles against Khiv’s grip, but without any use of her hands or arms she is unable to topple her.

Khiv stares, watches Nulgar’s expression run from frustrated to angry to overwhelmed and back again, eyes running down her neck to her bare chest.

“Now I will find all your sensitive spots, Captain,” Khiv says, almost under her breath, as she moves one hand down to Nulgar’s left nipple. Her fingers tease it, lightly touching until it grows hard. Nulgar’s breathing stops and starts in unpredictable patterns as Khiv plays with her breast.

Nulgar barely remembers to struggle as Khiv’s hands move across her, touching nipples, brushing against rarely-touched areas like the flesh near her armpit, or her neck, or her hipbones. Somewhere in the back of her mind Nulgar remembers that it has been years since her last lover left her, and that the need for the touch of another orc has been keeping her from truly relaxing since before she earned the title of Hell-Axe.

Nulgar is pulled back out of her head when Khiv’s fingers pinch hard on her right nipple and she yelps, mostly from surprise but also from the electric shock-like pain rushing through her chest. She growls up at Khiv’s face, pushing her hips up and trying to unseat Khiv with her legs.

“Calm, calm, Captain.” Khiv’s hands move down, her nails raking against Nulgar’s thighs as she does, making her wince. “Concentrate on my hands.” 

Khiv edges her hips down Nulgar’s body, now perched atop her thighs. Khiv’s hand moves to Nulgar’s genitals, her forefinger parting her folds and pressing lightly against her clit. “Concentrate on how your body feels.” As that hand rubs against Nulgar’s clit, two fingers from the other hand nudge against her entrance. Pleasure starts to warm Nulgar’s body, and she feels her hips unconsciously thrust against Khiv’s hands. 

Khiv grins, her fingers massaging Nulgar’s hole. “ _That’s_ it, Captain. Let it take you over.”

She slips in one thick finger, and Nulgar gasps, feels her body clench around that finger, desperate to wring more pleasure out of it.

Nulgar only realizes she’s clenched her thighs together when Khiv pushes them apart again. Khiv smiles as she moves her legs and settles herself firmly between Nulgar’s legs, keeping them spread wide now. “Captain, please. Let me work.”

“You are persistant, orcling.” Nulgar growls low, not willing to let her voice go any louder for fear it will come out in moans.

Khiv moves her finger in and out slowly, letting it pull against Nulgar’s inner walls. “True. Something you yourself have praised me for. Remember last month’s raid on that elfin castle?”

Nulgar tries to talk through the wave of pleasure that is moving slowly up towards her head, making it hard to form complete thoughts. “That was…obviously different.”

Khiv smiles, leaning down. “I consider it mostly the same.” Khiv’s tongue pushes down onto Nulgar’s clit and Nulgar barely swallows a scream.

Nulgar feels pleasure, an overwhelming sensation, buzzing between her ears, which only gets stronger until it all peaks at once, her legs clenching down again to try and milk the pleasure out of Khiv’s fingers, Khiv’s tongue still working her clit as Nulgar fights not to thrust up into her mouth (and fails). Khiv is a master at this, and Nulgar briefly imagines how many partners one would have to have to get this much practice in before the thought is washed away with pleasure, the aftermath of the orgasm still rushing through her.

A few seconds later, Khiv moves her mouth from Nulgar’s clit and to her thigh, where she lets her teeth press into Nulgar’s skin until the pain is too much to bear quietly. Nulgar yells in pain and shoves Khiv away with her foot, Khiv’s fingers slipping out of her and leaving her empty but still warm.

Khiv takes the kick in stride, pushing Nulgar’s leg away, coming back between her thighs and leaning up so her face is near Nulgar’s.

“So, Captain.” Khiv smiles, obviously pleased with herself.

Nulgar is breathing heavily, eyes fixed on Khiv. They stay like that, Khiv right between her legs but not touching her, until Nulgar pulls herself up, jostling but not pushing Khiv over. Her brain is fuzzy, warm, and full of a certain animal desire that no one has aroused in her for years. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Khiv asks, searching for eye contact. “Shall I make you come again?”

Nulgar obliges, looking up into Khiv’s eyes. “I’m not such a pushover, orcling. You haven’t won yet.”

“That sounds like a yes,” Khiv says, letting her fingers play near Nulgar’s opening, not yet going inside but teasing it. “How many times can I make you come before you admit defeat?” 

Nulgar bites back some kind of sound as Khiv lets one thick finger slip inside her for a moment. 

“As many as I possibly can, I say. I plan to wring more out of you than you even think is possible.”

Nulgar opens her mouth to say something back but is stopped when Khiv lowers her mouth to Nulgar’s clit again and she starts moaning through her teeth.

 

—-

 

It seems like hours later (and might as well be; after all there is no window to the outside from the room) when Khiv slides three slick fingers out from Nulgar’s pussy, eliciting a shudder from her.

“Were you counting, Captain? Do you know how many that was?”

Nulgar doesn’t move her eyes from where they’re staring at the rock ceiling of the room. Khiv had made her orgasm six times, each one making her slightly more desperate than the last, partly because of her body loosening up, making herself more available to Khiv’s touches, and partly because she seemed to be feeling more and more ready to let Khiv take her fully, to let Khiv take her bed-mate’s position, no matter how humiliating it might be to do so.

“I counted five times myself,” Khiv says, letting her claws run up and down Nulgar’s thighs, leaving thin white marks in their wake. “Although I could be wrong. By now you’re so damned sensitive I can’t tell what’s pain and what’s pleasure coming from you.”

Nulgar growls, but doesn’t trust herself to put anything into words yet.

“Now…I have something special for you, Captain. Please, stay here, keep comfortable.” Khiv gets up, wiping her hand against her pants as she goes to the bag she threw against the wall. She pulls something long out of it, with thick leather straps hanging from it. 

Nulgar isn’t so stupid or virginal as to be ignorant of what it is. She pulls against her bonds while she watches Khiv strip off her pants and strap herself into the leather. Nulgar tries not to think about how she’s not struggling as much as she could be, and how she hopes that the ropes stay tied even as she twists her wrists against the knots.

Khiv turns around, and lets Nulgar look her over for a few moments. Nulgar’s eyes are fixated on the torch-light glinting off the smooth, polished wood jutting from Khiv’s hips. 

“Interested, Captain? I thought you would be.” Khiv strokes her cock, running her calloused hands over her generous girth.“This one is an old friend of mine.”

“…You’ve done this a lot, then?”

Khiv grins. “Does that excite you, Captain? To be one of many?”

Nulgar grunts. “Can’t say it does.”

“Good. Romantic sentiments become you, Captain.” Khiv lets her cock push through her hands, slowly, slowly. “Don’t let me fuck all that out of you.”

Nulgar glances up at Khiv’s eyes, narrowing hers slightly.

Khiv winks and blows Nulgar a kiss before lining up her hips with Nulgar’s. Khiv lowers herself rather gently onto Nulgar, letting her cock press into Nulgar slowly. Nulgar tenses. She feels fuller than she has in a long time, and her body instantly starts to crave more. Without any input from her brain, her legs spread farther apart, and she lifts her hips, her body aching for more, to be filled.

Khiv smirks, eyes traveling up from where they are now connected to Nulgar’s eyes. “Captain. Your body understands.”

Nulgar stares back at Khiv, searching her eyes for…something, Nulgar isn’t sure whether she’s looking for signs of rebellion, of lust, or of love. “…Shut up and fuck me already.”

“With pleasure, Captain.” Khiv says, and slides her cock the rest of the way inside.

Nulgar keens at the feeling of fullness, the feeling that yes, this is what she’s been chasing the last three years, this is the void she’s been trying to fill with all those raids on elfin hunting villages. Khiv sits there, with her hips resting against Nulgar’s, letting Nulgar experience the feeling of fullness alone.

“How does it feel, Captain? To be helplessly pinned down, totally filled by my cock?” Khiv grins, and begins to slide her hips backward, letting the strap-on rub against Nulgar’s walls, exploring the sensitive nerves there. 

She pulls back until her cock is nearly out of Nulgar, only the very tip of it still resting inside her. They sit there for a long moment, Khiv’s eyes never leaving Nulgar’s face.

Nulgar moves her eyes from where they were fixed on the ceiling to meet Khiv’s gaze.

“…Yes, Captain?”

Nulgar growls and locks her ankles behind Khiv. “Move. Now.”

Khiv’s face breaks out into a truly happy grin, satisfaction playing across her features. Nulgar’s mind wanders to Khiv’s lower incisors, watching them jutting out above her top lip. She is completely unprepared when Khiv follows her orders and pushes her hips forward again, filling Nulgar up again.

Nulgar gasps, really vocalizing this time, because Khiv gives her no break before she pulls back and slams in again. 

Khiv quickly sets up a rhythm, pumping in and out with powerful strokes. She moves one hand to Nulgar’s clit, rubbing her thumb against it in rhythm, pulling more noise from Nulgar than she has the entire night.

“You are fantastic, Captain.” Khiv says, not breaking her rhythm for a second. “I can’t wait to do this to you every night, to fuck you after you’ve killed a thousand kobolds, before you pledge service to orc-queens and after you’ve slit the throats of a dozen elvish lords.” Khiv notices Nulgar’s body tensing up, and increases her rhythm. “Are you close, Captain?”

Words can’t possibly come to Nulgar in this moment, her brain is wiped blank by pleasure, but she hears a deep voice moan, saying “More, more…”

Khiv keeps her rhythm steady, sweatdrops falling from her forehead and falling to her bare breasts, not letting up for a second until Nulgar squeals, clenching her legs around Khiv’s waist, curling her torso forward as if to keep Khiv there forever. Khiv obliges by keeping her thumb moving until Nulgar’s orgasm subsides completely and she falls back onto the bedroll.

“Captain…” Khiv pulls out, deftly undoing the straps and letting the cock fall to the ground on top of her bag.

Nulgar groans, her body slowly returning to its true state. Nulgar can feel sore muscles and cold spots that didn’t seem to be there just a few seconds ago.

“Untie me, orcling.”

“Of course.” Khiv reaches around, undoing the knots much faster than seemed possible for their complexity. “What say you, Captain? Of the mate’s challenge?”

“…I should kill you,” Nulgar says, checking her wrists for injuries before standing up. “You have demonstrated absolute disrespect for my authority tonight.”

Khiv doesn’t even have the humility to look bothered. “Yes, Captain.”

Nulgar stares at Khiv, her body still holding onto that fucked-out feeling that Khiv gave her.

Nulgar sighs. “…You are familiar with the responsibilities of a bed-mate, I assume.”

“And the privileges as well, my Captain.” Khiv bows, winking. “I suppose I should call you Nulgar now.”

“‘Captain’ will do just fine, orcling.”

Khiv grins. “We’ll work up to it.” She throws whatever she brought into the room and into her bag and pulls it over her shoulder. “May I accompany you back to your tent, Captain?”

Nulgar holds out her hand, waiting for Khiv to hand over her clothes. “Yes, you may.”


End file.
